


My heart in your claws, your hands on my throat

by sweetlikesugar



Series: Pack Writing [7]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Hooking up, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Beta Read, Pining, Relationship Study, alcohol use, i guess, kind of unrequited love, not really tho?, skovinsky, swan should be a therapist, this is very skov centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlikesugar/pseuds/sweetlikesugar
Summary: It was not a beautiful face and K was not a beautiful boy. He was a shipwreck of a person, haunting, thrilling and dangerous.





	My heart in your claws, your hands on my throat

**Author's Note:**

> did you want skovinsky? no? i don't care. (i care immensely)

“I know what you’re doing” Swan said, eyeing Skov over his coffee mug. 

 

“What?”.

 

“It’s uber unhealthy, you know that?”.

 

“Swan, my dude, you need to stop speaking riddles, because I’m not smart enough for that” Skov stuffs a whole toast in his mouth, crumbs spraying everywhere. Swan is half disgusted half impressed.

 

“The thing with K” Swan observes calmly as Skov’s hand twitches, his coffee spilling out on the floor in a small glob. “I know you like hooking up but it’s different when you hook up with K”.

 

Skov wipes the spill with his sock and dumps the coffee into the sink. “It’s not that deep” he laughs, but there’s a strain in his smile. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it”.

  
  
  


The thing with K started as a stupid crush. Skov was new and K was an urban legend. He was the master forger, he threw the wildest parties, he was everything Skov yearned for. When they met it only intensified. Skov was now seeing with his own eyes what he previously only heard in stories and it was magnificent.

 

K was snarky, sarcastic and brutal, but he was also quirky and funny in his own way. He liked fast cars, drugs and fireworks and so did Skov. When he discovered the tattoo under his hipbone one day, a brand as plain as a day, he ran to his room and screamed like a twelve year old at a concert.

  
  


Skov liked sex. There’s no way around it. He liked sex, he liked people, he liked feeling good and making others feel good. Nothing wrong with that in his opinion. At first his attraction to K was mostly physical. K wasn’t the most beautiful person Skov has ever seen or slept with. He was actually the opposite of what people would find attractive. He was bony and malnourished, he had terribly dark eyebags, hollow cheeks and his nose was crooked. Probably broken and never set properly. His eyes were dark and deep and had an animalistic quality that made Skov shudder. It was not a beautiful face and K was not a beautiful boy. He was a shipwreck of a person, haunting, thrilling and dangerous.

  
  


“Your crush on K is highkey disgusting” Jiang announced, fingers flying over the screen of his phone at rapid speed. “Just fuck him and get over him”.

 

Skov was not in the mood to explain that it wasn’t that easy, because usually that was what he’d do. Find someone pretty, fuck them and get over them. Not with K. It wouldn’t go away.

 

“K doesn’t do hook ups” he said instead. 

 

Jiang doesn’t say anything and just stares at Skov with pity and disgust. Skov doesn’t want to see it.

  
  


Skov didn’t like being around Proko on his own. He had no problem with trading insults when there was more than two of them, but Proko was intense in a very unpleasant way. Maybe because of how Skov gravitated towards K in general.

 

Proko wasn’t easy to read, but Skov wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought. Academically, his skills and grades left much to be desired. When it came to people Skov was just as observant as Proko, if not even more.

 

There was a well disguised power imbalance between Proko and K. An invisible noose tied around K’s neck and Proko was the one holding it. If Proko saw a benefit in kicking the chair from under K he would do it. Skov never commented on it since K never seemed to address it, but he knew it was there. However, as much as Proko was pragmatic he was also protective of K and that didn’t sit well with Skov either.

  
  


“I’m his first stray” K laughed one night, laying drunk and high on the trunk of his car. He was waving a cigarette around and the bright orange tip looked like a lighting bug. “You know? You guys are the ones that came later, but I’m the first one. I know all the tricks and then some. He keeps me around because I’m useful and we’ve known each other for so long that…” he trails off, hand frozen still in the air. “We’ve known each other for a long time” he repeats and inhales the smoke.

  
  


They fuck in the backseat of the Mitsubishi.

  
  


The bass rattles Skov’s bones and his head is foggy from drugs and liquor and suddenly he  _ needs _ someone. He needs K.

 

He pushes away a girl writhing in his lap and maneuvers through the crowd trying to find him. K’s on the edge of a huge circle of stupid teenagers throwing Molotovs at a vacant car twenty metres away. He’s sitting on the roof of the Mitsubishi, face illuminated by the orange flames that bend and break around his bone structure and he looks like the devil supervising as his demons wreck havoc on the earth. 

 

Skov grabs a bottle of teal alcohol that he’s ninety-seven percent sure is dreamed up and climbs on the Mitusbishi. He sits just close enough to feel K’s body heat seep into his bones and accepts a spliff that he’s given. He doesn’t try to fuck K this night but God knows he wants to.

  
  


Hooking up with Kavinsky is like playing with fire while drenched in gasoline. It’s hot and bad for Skov’s health but K is addictive from the taste of his skin to the noises he makes. He’s a meticulous structure of skin and bones but he’s not delicate in any way and every bite Skov takes, K reciprocates with one of his own. At the end Skov is always clawed to ribbons and K looks positively mauled but it gives them both freedom they don’t experience with other people.

  
  
  


“It’s really bad for your health”.

 

Skov doesn’t know why Swan is awake at ass crack of dawn and sipping tea in the kitchen or why he keeps making Skov think about his mental wellbeing but he accepted it as a fact.

 

“So?”.

 

Swan looks at him with motherly disappointment Skov loathes with his entire soul but holds the eye contact until Swan sighs and takes another sip of his tea. Skov chugs a glass of water on one breath, pours himself another and sits on the opposite side of the table. He pretends not to be bothered with how Swan eyes the welts on his torso and shoulders and how he’s comparing them to the collar of bite marks around K’s neck.

 

“I’m just wondering how long you can keep it up before you go crazy. Everyone has a breaking point”.

 

Skov snorts and it breaks into an ugly laugh. He’s tired of how everyone tries to advise him to be careful with K as if they’re not all living in the same house and share the same skewed morals, childhoods and self worth. 

 

“I know that” he spits out. “He’s not good for me. Well newsflash, I’m not good for me either. So I guess it doesn’t matter”.

 

The sound of feet slapping on the wooden floor interrupts their conversation and a moment later K and Jiang walk into the kitchen, Jiang hunched over K’s shoulder trying to give tips about whatever he’s playing on Jiang’s Nintento. Jiang opens the fridge trying to keep an eye on the game as best as he can and presses a bottle to K’s bruised nape making him yell and flail. They walk out the same way they came in, K leading and Jiang looking over his shoulder. 

 

Swan doesn’t say anything for a while and Skov suddenly remembers why talking to him is so unnerving. 

 

“You’ll do whatever you want” Swan points out carrying his mug to the sink. “Maybe you think what you have with him now, whatever it is, is worth it. I don’t want to tell you it’s not”.

 

“But you think so”. Skov doesn’t know why he’s being so bitter. He knows damn well it’s a terrible game to play. But he’s stupid and he likes how K looks and feels underneath him and right now it’s enough.

 

Swan stares at him pointedly. “I never said you’re good for him too”.

 

He turns off the light in the kitchen and leaves Skov in the dark.

 

Next morning no one asks why there are bloody shards of glass in the garbage. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
